I Got Life!
by Dizzy Takeout
Summary: A series of drabbles inspired by the lyrics of "I Got Life" from HAIR. All Puck-centered. Don't need to be a HAIR fan. Slash warning.


**AN: Hey guys. So, im a giant fan of the musical HAIR. So, this is a series of little drabble-things inspired bythe lyrics of the song I Got Life. All, of which are about our fav bad ass Puck:)) they aren't in any special time sequence. Some are future, past etc. Obviously contains slash. :) But it's not specifically a kurt/puck fic. They're just in it the most. Read, enjoy and review.**

**

* * *

**

_**I got life, mother**_

Puck stared across the table at his ma. She was ranting in her ever-so Jew mom way, something about him getting a nice job, marrying a nice Jewish dentist and having eight nice kids. He was so tired of her ruling everything he did. He threw his fork down and stood up from the table. His mother stopped talking and stared at him.

"What are you doing, Noah? Sit back down."

"No." She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, daring him to walk away. Well, Noah Puckerman doesn't back down from a challenge.

"I have my own life, ma. And I'll spend it how I want." He pushed his chair in and went out to his mother's Volvo. He sat in it for a minute before peeling out the driveway, heading in no certain direction.

**_I got laughs, sister_**

Puck smiled to himself as the fat kid from _Superbad_ got spit on. This movie was fucking hysterical every time he watched it. He loved it.

"Noah, what are you doing?" Puck looked up and saw his sister in his doorway, her eyes tired, goosebumps lining her arms.

"Watching a movie. Why?" Dana ventured into the room and sat next to him, pulling the blanket over her legs.

"Couldn't sleep. Can I stay in here?" Dana looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and a pout on her lips. He sighed.

"Fine, but don't tell Ma you're watching this. She'll beat me." She nodded and Puck pressed play. The movie continued. Soon enough, the fat kid's monologue about drawing dicks began and Puck laughed a strong deep laugh, one that rumbled from his stomach.

"I like when you laugh, Noah. You sound like that Christmas guy, uh Santa."

"Thanks, twerp."

"You should laugh more." Puck glanced at his sister and thought about her words.

"I should." He answered and threw an arm over her shoulder.

**_I got freedom, brother_**

"Finn, can we talk?" Finn closed his locker and turned around. Puck was there, eyes cast downward, hands behind his back.

"I don't really have anything to say, dude." Finn began to walk away, but his arm was grabbed and he was spun around.

"Well, I do." Puck stated, looking fiercer than before. Finn narrowed his eyes, but didn't walk away. Puck took a deep breath before continuing, "Look, man. You're like a brother to me, and we have some shit to clear up. I know you have a problem with me right now-"

"Damn straight I do. You fucking made out with Rachel! I can't even-"

"Shut up. Let me finish," Finn closed his mouth with an audible click. "I've been an ass. I know. But, I'm saying sorry. So here it goes. 'Finn, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for Quinn. I'm sorry for Rachel. I'm just sorry. It was wrong. And I want to come clean. I need to be free from it all, like the guilt and shit. Forgive me, bro?" Puck held his fist up

Finn looked at Puck. He grew up with this guy. He was there when Finn broke his arm in fifth grade. He was there when his first girlfriend dumped him. He was there every father's day, playing video games and making him laugh. He needed Puck back in his life. He touched his fist to Puck's.

"Yeah. I'll start forgiving you."

**_I got good times, man_**

"Mr. Shu? You got a minute?" Puck sat down in the seat in front of Mr. Shu's desk. Mr. Shu put his pen down and crossed his arms.

"Sure, Puck. What's up?"

"I locked some fat kid in the janitor's closet. And Ms. P said to talk to you about my 'anger issues'." Puck put his chin into his palm and put his elbow on the desk. Mr. Shu nodded.

"That's a bummer."

"Yeah, no shit," Mr. Shu opened his mouth to correct the jock's language, but realized it would be useless and let him continue. "I don't even know why I'm so pissed all the time."

"Well, whenever I feel depressed, I try to remember all the good things in my life. You know, count my blessings?" Mr Shu paused and coughed awkwardly, trying to think of what to say next, "Well, uhh I have you Glee kids. I have my family. I have a good job. I-"

"I get it. Mr. Shu. I have to think of all the good times in my life. Like when Rachel's mom lets me see Beth. And Sectionals. And winning football games. Right?" Puck looked up at Mr. Shu.

"Exactly. Feeling better?"

"A little, thanks, Shu." Puck stood up from the desk and walked out the classroom, throwing Jacob Ben-Isreal into a locker without missing a beat. Mr. Shu shook his head to himself and went to make sure Jacob was conscious.

**_I got crazy ways, daughter_**

"Bye, Noah." The little girl wrapped her arms around Puck's neck and tears burned at the corner of his eyes

"See you soon, Beth."

"Ok. But, remember to bring Uno next time."

"I'll do my best."

"It was nice to meet you."

"You too, Beth." Puck got up from his knees and Beth scurried into the kitchen. Shelby left her spot in the corner of the room to shake Puck's hand. Puck pulled a wad of cash from his front packet and placed it in her waiting hand. Her eyes went wide and she tried to hand it back to him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and chuckled.

"I can't accept this, Noah."

"Yes, you can." Shelby stared at the jock and realized that he was, in no way, letting her give it back. She sighed and put the bills on the coffee table.

"How does a boy your age get the kind of cash?" Puck blushed and scratched the back of his head.

"Uh…I uhh…let's just say 'crazy ways' and leave it at that." Shelby raised her eyebrow, but decided not to ask.

"Will we see you next week?"

"Yeah. I'll stop by next Monday. See ya later."

"Bye, Noah."

**_I got million-dollar charm, cousin_**

Rachel Berry fished through the sheets of music she was looking for until she found exactly what she was looking for. She smiled and walked back to the piano, her gait looking slightly psychotic. She sat on the stool and just as she was about to play _Seasons of Love, _she felt a certain mohawk-ed jock standing behind her.

"What is it, Noah? I was just about to rehearse the solo I'm preparing for Glee today. Finn and I are going to sing it." She smiled to herself as she thought about her and the adorable teen singing as they chased each other around the piano, falling more in love with each note.

Puck crinkled his nose and shook his head. He sat down next to her, his body pressed against her side as he read the lyrics on the sheet music.

"How the hell do you measure in coffee?" Puck scoffed as Rachel grabbed the music and stood up.

"Do. Not. Insult. Rent." Puck threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Sorry, babe." Rachel rolled her eyes and sat back down on the piano bench and straightened the papers on the stand.

"Why are you here? She asked and Puck shrugged.

"Just thought I'd spend a little time with my favorite Lady-Jew. You know, besides my mom."

"Oh… why?"

"I gotta look out for my fellow he-bros. We Jews gotta stick together, we're like cousins. Or something." Puck explained and Rachel looked at him.

"He-Bros?"

"He-Bros. You know like Hebrews, except more badass. So, how's it hanging?" Rachel just sighed and began to dance her finger across the white keys.

"Nothing, really. I'm going to Finn's soon, so I can't stay very long."

"Damn shame. So, tell Dr. Puckerman. Has Hudson tapped that yet?"

"How pleasant. Is that the same million-dollar charm that gets you into bed with people's mothers."

"Precisely." Puck smirked. Rachel sighed and looked at her pink digital watch.

"I have to go now. Bye, Noah."

"Later, Rach." She left, and while she was at her locker, she found that she didn't want to hang out with Finn as badly as before.

**_I got headaches _**

"Wake up."

"Numphfereh" Kurt rolled his eyes at the pathetic display in front of him.

"Puck, wake up." No reply at all this time. Kurt raised an eyebrow and grabbed an open bottle of water. He threw it into the jock's face. He opened a sleep crusted eye and growled.

"Fucking flamer…" He grumbled and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're in my bed, Captain Jack Daniels. Your shit is in the kitchen. Advil's on the counter." Puck stood up from the bed with ease, only to fall on the floor in a matter of seconds.

"Woah." Puck muttered. Kurt scoffed and tucked himself between his bed sheets, refilling the spot that Puck was just laying in. The jock scowled from the floor as he tried to stand up again. It took a lot of work, but eventually it was a success. He trudged downstairs and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. He filled it with water from the tap and grabbed 3 Advils from the bottle on the counter. He swallowed them all at the same time and gulped the water down. He stepped over Santana and Finn, who were slumped on the floor, their arms and legs intertwined, and laid back on the living room couch, willing his headache away.

**_And toothaches_**

"Puckerman, Noah." Carl called from his office. He turned his head to the door when a large, tanned teenager entered the room. He immediately took his seat in the chair and opened his mouth. Carl shrugged and pulled a new pair of gloves on.

"So, Mr. Puckerman comma Noah. What's the problem?"

"My tooth hurts. Why the hell else would I be here?" Carl crinkled his nose at the boy's attitude. But, smirked when he realized the best part of being a dentist. He shoved his hands into the jock's mouth, effectively shutting him up.

"Well, Mr. Puckerman, it appears you have a cavity. We'll fill it and then send you on your way. I'm assuming the bill is to be sent to your mother?" Puck nodded, unable to speak.

Carl began the procedure. He easily filled the cavity and had Puck rinse and spit. Nice and simple. Puck wiped his mouth on his sleeve before speaking.

"So you're Carl, the one with Ms. Pillsbury, right?" Carl thought about correcting Emma's new last name, but decided not to.

"Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. Mr. Shu's been all torn up and stuff." Puck shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, and my sort -of -girlfriend called your name out during sex."

"I'm sorry?" Carl awkwardly scratched his scalp, but Puck just waved it off.

"S'all good. I called out Kim Kardashian's name. Anyway, see ya later."

"…Bye." Carl watched as the jock stood up and walked away. God knows why, but, he found that he really liked the kid. He shook his head to himself and took off his gloves.

**_And bad times too/ Like you_**

Kurt looked in the bathroom mirror one last time. He was so tired of this crap. Another McQueen jacket, ruined. It's a sin to humanity. He sighed and began to walk out of the bathroom. Before he could open the door, Noah Puckerman was hovering over him, red slushie dripping down his face, neck, and flannel shirt. Even through the mask of processed sugar and food dye, Kurt could see a scowl forming on the jock's face.

"Excuse me, Puck. I need to get through." Kurt tried to push through the boy opposite of him, but Puck wouldn't let him out.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Puck grabbed Kurt's shoulders and spun him around, leading him back by the sinks, "What happened to team spirit? You're gonna help get this shit offa me."

Kurt sighed. He didn't really have a choice, did he? He pulled shampoo from his bag and tipped Puck's head back into the sink.

"You know this is all your fault, right?" Kurt asked and Puck crinkled his eyebrows.

"How is this my fault? I didn't fucking slushie myself."

"But, you started this trend. You were the first to slushie someone."

"Yeah, when I was ten. Because, Azimio kissed the girl I liked. I wasn't exactly thinking of the future consequences."

"Well, that's your own problem." Kurt squeezed the hair product in his hand and ran his fingers through the jock's mohawk.

"What's your issue with me, Kurt?" Puck asked as his eyes closed. Kurt scoffed.

"Let me count the ways. Let's start with the bullying."

"That's not fair, dude. I haven't done anything to you in months. I've actually stopped stuff from happening." Kurt rolled his eyes, his nails digging into Puck's scalp with more force than necessary.

"That doesn't make up for the years of harassment, Neanderthal."

"You forgave Finn. Why not me?" Kurt opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Puck sat up and shook the water from his head. He stood up and faced Kurt, his body close to his.

"You know, Kurt, you're not the only one who has been bullied. Just, you know, keep that in mind." Puck turned away, grabbed his bag and walked out of the bathroom.

Kurt stood in front of the mirror, with shampoo on his hands, and a look of regret on his face.

**_I got my hair_**

It was Artie who first noticed that Puck grew his mohawk back. Well, everyone noticed, but it was Artie who was first to ask why.

It was just them two in the choir room, each one strumming on their guitars, playing no melody in particular. Artie glanced at the boy, who had an unreadable expression on his face as he pulled at the instrument's strings with abandon.

"Hey, Puck. I was just wondering but, why did you grow the mohawk back?" Artie asked, surprised by his own boldness. But to give credit where it was needed, he and Puck had grown some sort of bond in the past few weeks. Not exactly friends, but there was something.

Puck looked up from his guitar at the wheel chair-bound boy and considered the question.

"Easy, the mohawk is my anchor." Artie cocked his head to the side and waited for Puck to elaborate. Puck tuned the guitar as he continued.

"My life was so chill before I shaved the 'hawk. No problems. I was just, you know, Puck, the footballer who bags all the chicks. Once, I lost the mohawk everything got complicated. Quinn, school, life. My life grew tentacles. I hated it. I missed the easiness I had. So I grew it back."

"Do you really think that your hair has to do with that?" Artie asked, genuinely curious in the jock's answer.

"Not really… but I like the simplicity of the thought. It's easier than thinking deeper than that." And with that, Puck grabbed his guitar and began playing it again.

Artie just watched, and soon his own finger began to dance along the strings as well.

**_I got my head_**

When Puck was little, his mother had forced him to wear a helmet when he went on his bike. He argued with her, insisting the helmet would ruin his tough kid reputation, but his mother had pushed the issue harder.

"Noah! You will wear a helmet and you will do it with a smile on your face. Do you know what happens to boys who don't wear helmets? They break their skulls." Puck dismissed her worries, chalking it up to typical mother paranoia. You can't break your skull. It's made of like, steel or something.

So Puck pretended to strap his helmet to his head and meet Finn outside. Once his mother was out of eye's reach, Puck pulled the helmet off his head and hung it on the handle bars. He rode around Finn's block, laughing and screaming with his child abandon. But, when the bike's tire hit a pothole, Puck flew off the top and landed, head first, on the curb.

He could feel the pain and the blood dripping down his forehead. He screamed. And he blacked out.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed with his mother holding his hand. He waited for her to yell at him for not wearing his helmet, but the discipline never came.

**_I got my brains _**

Puck copied down the final few Chemistry notes in his binder before the bell rang. He stood up from his seat and just as he was about to walk out, his teacher, Mr. Phillips, grabbed his shoulder.

"Noah, I have a question to ask you. Would you mind tutoring one of my students in another period. She's having trouble and could use your help. Since you have the best average, I figured she could really use you."

"Why should I?" Puck asked, raising an eyebrow. Mr. Phillips simply raised one back.

"Because, if you do, I won't have to go to the student center and find a suitable tutor. Which is near the janitor's closet. Where I might find Jacob Ben Israel cowering in fear. Where a certain student of mine put him." Puck's jaw dropped, but closed almost immediately. Mr. Phillips just smirked.

"Who is it?" Puck asked in surrender, just as a knock sounded at the door.

"Mercedes, come on in. I found you tutor.

"Hi, Mr. Phillips. White boy," Mercedes acknowledged Puck's presence with a nod before turning to the teacher, "So where's my tutor?"

"Right behind you, Ms. Jones. Puck will be helping you." Mercedes whipped her heard around and stared at Puck. He shrugged and Mercedes let out a short laugh.

"This fool's tutoring me? You're kidding right?"

"Hey! I have a ninety fucking eight in this class. Don't mess, Aretha." Mercedes rolled her eyes obnoxiously and turned back to Mr. Phillips.

"This has to be a joke."

"Not at all, Mercedes. Puck is one of my best students. He has more brains than you think. Good luck, kids. You have the room until four." M. Phillips grabbed his empty coffee mug and books and left the room. Mercedes rubbed her temples before sitting down in a desk.

"Alright, Mohawk. Let's get this over with."

**_I got my ears_**

It started off as an average day. Just a normal Tuesday. Wake up. Get dressed. Eat. Brush his teeth. Go to school. Throw Hummel in a dumpster. Slushie someone. Maybe go to class. His routine was pretty normal.

But his day, no his life, changed when he overheard two words coming from Quinn Fabray's mouth.

_"I'm pregnant."_

It's funny how attentive his ears could be. They were so tuned to the voice of Quinn. He had trained them to listen for the sweet sounds that came from her mouth. That's what happens when you love someone. Your body just keeps them on its radar.

Puck came to a short stop as the two words hit his ears. He leaned against a locker, as to not look like he was eavesdropping, and listened to the rest of the conversation.

Quinn was pregnant. She was a virgin when Puck had sex with her.

Quinn was carrying Puck's child. And she was denying it.

Puck's ears burned along with the rest of his face. He swallowed the lump in his throat and adjusted the bag on his back, which had gotten far heavier. He began to continue his walk down the hallway, insisting to himself that the water in his eyes was from a screwy contact.

**_I got my eyes_**

"Kurt, what color are my eyes?" Kurt sighed and turned to Puck, who was filling out the form for the DMV.

Apparently, Puck and Finn had planned for Finn to drive Puck to the DMV to get his license. But. Finn had forgotten completely and left to go on a date with Rachel. When Puck showed up at the house, Kurt didn't have the heart to send him away. So he drove the jock to the DMV and ended up waiting with him.

"I don't know, Puck. Brown, I guess."

"But, they aren't really brown. They're kind of greenish-brownish-blackish." Puck's face twisted into a confused look and Kurt turned the page in the last month Vogue he was reading.

"Go ahead and write that down, Puck. I'm sure they'll let you drive after that."

"I can't check that. No box for it."

"I don't know what to tell you, Puck." Puck huffed.

"Should I put hazel?" Kurt looked up into Puck's eyes. He was right. They didn't have an exact color. They were brown and gold and green and black. They were really nice.

"Sure, I guess hazel's ok. Go hand it in." Puck stood up from the chair, grunting heavily and walked over to the desk. He handed the lady the form, winking at her as he did. She blushed and printed out his license. He smiled and thanked her. Kurt watched and wondered if the desk lady was just as entranced by Puck's eyes as he was.

**_I got my nose_**

"Do you smell that?" Puck asked randomly, interrupting the rehearsal of 'Valerie'. Santana threw her hands up in frustration. Brad stopped playing and everyone stopped dancing.

"What, Puck?" Mr. Shu asked, obviously aggravated, but doing his best not to show it.

"You guys don't smell that?" Puck looked around the room, waiting for someone to agree. No one did. Instead they all looked at him like he was crazy.

"I don't smell anything, Puck. Let's finish this sing, undisturbed this time." Mr. Shu said and just as Brad began to play, Puck spoke again.

"Seriously, guys. I smell something weird."

"Puck, it's fine. Let's just do this, ok?" Mr. Shu said and directed Mike and Brittany into a certain dance position. Puck growled under his breath. They sung for a few minutes before Puck stopped them again.

"How do you not fucking smell that?" Puck yelled and Santana punched him in the shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up, Ballsack! No one cares that your giant Jew nose picks up on meaningless scents. Now stop fucking interrupting me." Puck rolled his eyes at the Latina.

"Fuck you. And my nose isn't giant. That fucking smell is-"

"ATTENTION, STUDENT AND FALCULTY. WE HAVE HAD A SPILL IN THE CHEM LAB AND THE FUMES CAN BE TOXIC IF INHALED FOR TOO LONG. WE WILL HAVE TO EVACUATE. PLEASE LEAVE IMMEDIATELY."

Everybody looked back at Puck as the announcement ended. He just smirked widely and flipped everyone off.

**_I got my mouth_**

Emma Pillsbury was organizing her erasers in order of size and color when she heard a knock on her door. A very irritated looking teacher walked in, pulling Noah Puckerman behind her. While the teacher was wearing a very large frown, a traditional two corners down one, Puck was sporting a soft smile, looking rather amused.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked. She didn't usually get teacher and student relation issues. That wasn't her territory.

"This young man has a very problematic sailor's mouth. You need to talk to him and make sure his use of profanities is decreased drastically!" Puck laughed quietly to himself and sat in the chair in front of Emma's desk.

"'Sup?"

"Hi, Noah. So, let's talk about your cursing problem. I think I have a pamphlet somewhere…"

"Alright, take you time." Puck leaned back in the chair, arms behind his head, as Emma searched for the brochure.

"Well, I can't seem to find it. So let's talk about your blasphemy."

"The fuck is that?" Emma coughed awkwardly.

"You know what, Noah. You can go." Emma said calmly and Puck shrugged.

"Thanks, Ms. P." Emma nodded. When Noah closed the door she sighed to herself. Some kids were simply self-assured to the point of immutable. Noah was one of those kids. She smiled, despite herself.

**_I got my teeth_**

It was his smile. He knows it, they know it, everyone knows it. That's how Noah Puckerman got babes in his bed. Just a quick flash of his pearly whites and they were dropping their panties faster than you can say 'hey, baby, what's your sign?"

It was a blessing, his smile, and he tried to use it wisely. But, he may not have used it too sensibly when Lauren Ziles was blackmailing him into seven minutes in a closet with her. He must have shown her the holy light that is his smile when she was pulling him out of the port-a-potty. And now, she was hooked. Oh well, it's just another girl pining after him. What's a stud to do?

**_I got my tongue_**

"Puckerman, I swear, if you pierce your tongue, I will never speak to you again." Kurt sent his best glare to the jock, who just raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? It would look totally badass. Like hardcore badass." He stuck his tongue out, pinching it with his fingers, "Right here." He mumbled, pointing to the exact spot he wanted to defile.

"Ugh, it's so wrong. Tongue piercings are so nasty." Kurt shivered dramatically before crossing his legs away from Puck.

"I bet you'd think it was sexy."

"Nope." Kurt sniffed and turned away completely from the jock.

Puck just stared at him for a minute before pulling out his phone and texting Santana: "yo, tell your brother I changed my mind."

**_I got my chin_**

"Grow up, Puck." Quinn rolled her eyes at the mohawked teen beside her.

"No seriously, look. It looks exactly like a butt."

"I'm not examining Mr. Shu's chin!" she whispered back harshly, "Do you know how weird that is?"

"It's not _that_ weird." He leaned back in his chair and thumbed a quick text on his phone. Quinn sighed and continued to take notes. A few minutes passed before Quinn felt Puck's finger in her side again.

"What?" she asked under breath.

"What's my chin look like?" Puck jutted his chin out and modeled it for the blonde. She crinkled her eyebrows and tapped her pencil.

"It looks like shit. You have the ugliest chin I've ever laid eyes on. Every time I see it, I want to puke." She stated flatly and turned her attention back to her notebook. She continued to copy the future tense when she felt Puck poke her once more.

"Do I really?" Quinn faced the boy and sighed. Puck was pinching his chin and crossing his eyes trying to look at it. She grabbed his hand and put it on his desk.

"Your chin is fine. Now get to work."

**_I got my neck_**

"Where's the hickey from, Puckerman?" Santana jabbed her middle finger into the red mark on Puck's neck before raising it in front of his face.

"Uh. Some hot chick. I don't think you know her." Puck scratched awkwardly at the back of his head before stepping backwards and beginning to walk away.

"Oh, no you don't. Get your ass back here." Santana grabbed the jock by the back of his shirt and pulled him next to her, "I want to know her name."

"Uh Kur- uh ella." Puck stuttered out and then winced visibly. Fuck, that was lame.

"Kurella? Are you fucking with me?" Santana put her hands on her hips and glared at Puck.

"No…" Puck answered and began to walk away again. Santana cut him off with a long tanned leg and stepped in front of him.

"I don't believe you. Tell me her fucking name." Santana grabbed the boy's ear and pulled. Puck yelped.

"Okay! Okay! OKAY!" Puck wrenched the Latina's hand off his ear and cracked his knuckles, trying to reestablish his badassedness to anyone who had just seen Santana man handle him.

"Well?" Santana tapped her foot. Puck grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side of the hallway.

"It was Kurt. Okay? Now get off my back." Puck stalked off down the hall before the girl could process the information. When she did, she gasped and pulled out her cell. Wait until Brit heard about this.

**_I got my tits_**

Well, he finally did it. Noah Puckerman came to school in a dress. After being provoked by Karofosky about his supposed homosexuality, Puck pushed his head into a locker and said calmly, "Even if I was a fairy, I could still kick your fat ass."

And through his now chipped teeth, Karofsky spat out "prove it."

So, that's precisely what he did. Puck walked into the McKinley High School parking lot in what looked like a dress belonging to Rachel Berry. It was plaid and down to his shins. In the chest area, Puck had shoved what looked like two bags full of jello and he was wearing a pair of red pumps. The sight was enough to make the fashion police duo of Kurt and Mercedes faint, but Puck wasn't in it to look good. He was in it to win it.

"Hey Karofsky!" Puck teetered on his heels over to the group of hockey players and hit his right fist against his palm.

"Holy shit…" Karofsky, with a look of complete confusion, stepped forward.

"Like what you see, butt fucker?" Puck stated before lunging at the jock and raining punches all over his face. Karofsky fell backwards and tried to hit back, but Puck blocked him effortlessly. But, in the chaos of the moment, Puck's left breast popped and chocolate pudding spilled out and stained the hideous dress. Puck shrugged and wiped his hand in the pudding.

"Eat it, bitch." He yelled before smearing the pudding on Karofsky's face and hair. "That's for the dumpster dive."

**_I got my heart_**

Puck watched as the glee kids ran around the choir room, taping paper hearts to the walls and popping chocolates in their mouths. He scoffed as he shoved his iPod ear buds in, blasting AC/DC as loud as it would go. He fucking hated Valentine's Day.

He was blending into the background perfectly until a certain obnoxious, and vertically-challenged, brunette disturbed his peace.

"Noah! Come on! Help us decorate! It will build team morality, which will help us win Regionals, which will give me a chance to-"

"Okay, Rach. I'm gonna stop you right there. First off- I'm not Noah. I'm Puck. So that's what you call me. You know, that or His Puckness, or Puckster, or El Puckarino if you're not into the whole brevity thing. Second- Why would I want to help?" He looked up at her quickly before replacing the bud back into his ear.

"Don't you want to get in the Valentine's Day spirit?" Rachel smiled brightly, but the expression faded when Puck flipped her off coolly while scrolling through his music.

Rachel huffed and spun on her heels, returning to the group. They were all crowded around the piano, eating the heart-shaped cookies Mercedes had made.

"What's up his butt?" Mercedes asked, eyeing the boy in the corner.

"Just leave him be. He's obviously not in the mood." Everyone turned to face Kurt who was nibbling dainty on a cookie. "What? If I were him, and I asked to be left alone, I would expect you all to pay the courtesy. Why shouldn't we do the same for him?" Everyone shrugged their shoulders and went back to their normal conversation.

Puck, who had his iPod on pause for the conversation, waited for the little soprano to catch his eye. When he did, Puck nodded in his direction in gratitude. Kurt just gave a small smile back.

**_I got my soul_**

It was funk week in Glee again. Rachel sifted through ideas with Finn, her mouth moving a million miles an hour, the boy beside her looking scared and confused. Brit and Santana scrolled through Brit's iPod, their heads together as they listened. Tina and Mike scribbled song titles on a napkin and Quinn, Sam and Artie ignored the assignment altogether.

Puck just relaxed in the back row, listening to the ramblings of the kids around him. He tapped his fingers carelessly on his thigh as he eavesdropped on the pair in front of him.

Mercedes and Kurt were talking almost as quickly as Rachel was, throwing ideas as each other back and forth like it was a game of ping pong. Finally, Puck leaned forward and chimed in.

"Yo. Can I work with you guys?"

Mercedes stopped talking mid-sentence and looked up at the mohawked boy. "You serious?"

"Yeah." Puck shrugged. Mercedes glanced at Kurt who raises his hands in mock-surrender. She turned back to the jock and gave her best diva face.

"You gotta have soul to be in this group. Think you can handle the heat, Puckerman?" She raised her fist to Kurt who bumped it. Puck watched the exchange and tried not to roll his eyes.

"I can handle anything. And I've got more soul than I know what to do with." Puck answered and Mercedes nodded her approval. Kurt leaned into the group.

"Alright, let's brainstorm. I want to kick Rachel's ass."

**_I got my back_**

People called him selfish. He didn't argue. He probably was. He didn't care.

Growing up, Puck learned one thing. Look out for yourself, then look out for others. Too many times had people said "I got your back." Too many times did they let him down. So fuck them. Look out for number 1. Then look after everyone else. Have your own back.

But, every rule had exceptions. Puck had a few. His sister, his daughter, Quinn, just to name some.

His most recent exception was one by the name of Kurt Hummel. For some reason, he felt the need to watch over him, protect him. So, when Puck found himself back in Juvie for kicking Karofsky's ass, he's okay with it. Because, well, maybe Kurt has his back, too.

**_I got my ass_**

Puck pulled the jeans over his legs and up onto his waist. They were a little tight, but he had to admit, his butt looked fucking smoking. He did a full 360, watching his behind move. God, he was sexy. If he could fuck himself, he would.

But, he'll leave that up to everyone else. Can't deprive the world of such a juicy piece of ass. He pulled his jacket on, winked at himself in the mirror and swaggered out of his room.

**_I got my arms_**

Sam would be the first to admit that, yeah, he pays a little too much attention to his body image. Every morning, he goes to the gym before class. Every afternoon, he stays late after football and does sprints. Every night, he does 50 push ups before bed. A little extra physical activity never hurt anyone. But, some people took it too far.

Sam threw his tee shirt over his shoulder as he entered the school weight room. It was eerily quiet and empty, except for a figure lifting in the back corner. Alone. Sam crinkled his brow and headed back there.

"You know, it's really bad to lift without a spotter." He called out and the figure grunted, placing the weight back on its holder. He sat up and wiped his forehead with the collar of his shirt. Sam looked closer and saw that it was that Puck kid.

"I'm fine, dude. Thanks for the concern." Puck spat out sarcastically. Sam scoffed and began to lift the dumbbells. Puck sighed and began to add weight to the bars.

"That's a lot, man. You sure you can handle that?" Sam nodded toward the bench and Puck added another fifty pound ring to each side.

"I'm a big boy. I think I know my limits." Puck laid back down on the bench and lifted again. Sam just shrugged and walked over to the treadmill.

They exercised in silence until the first period warning bell rang. Sam hopped off the machine and threw a towel around his neck. He waited for Puck to follow suit, but was surprised when he didn't see the boy following him.

"You coming?" Sam yelled back.

"No." Puck grunted back. Sam watched as the hulking jock continued to lift.

"There's more to life than lifting, dude." Sam said, knowing it was rude. But he felt the boy needed to hear it.

"Not when you don't have more to your life." Puck said before finally placing the bar back on its stand. He stood up and quickly stretched his arm. He walked past Sam and entered the locker room.

**_I got my hands_**

While on his way to the nurse's office for his daily nap one day, Puck had passed the ASL classroom. He peered in and watched as the students, moved their hands quickly, back and forth to each other.

It intrigued him and he continued to watch. For some reason, he liked the idea of communicating with only his hands. What were they good for now anyway? Flipping people off and masturbating? This ASL shit was way cooler.

So, he signed up for it. He told everyone that the principal was making him do it, because he was too badass for all the other classes. What's sad is that pretty much everyone believed him. Except Kurt, who was also in the class.

But, it worked out to their benefit. Now, they can talk shit about people in Glee, from across the room, without anyone knowing what they mean. Pretty sweet deal, right?

**_I got my fingers_**

Puck was eight when he first learned what the middle finger was. He had seen his mother flip off plenty of people, but he never knew what it meant until a sixth grader told him. He immediately started using it; on his friends, on his mom, on his teachers. Turns out that it wasn't such a good idea. He got in a lot of trouble that year. But, he didn't really mind. Every time he raised his middle finger at someone, he got a reaction. Whether it was good or bad, he didn't care. A reaction was a reaction. He'll take what he can get.

As he got older, teachers started reacting less. Just waving him off as the bad kid. He hated this. He wanted more attention, damn it! So, it went from flipping teachers off, to verbally insulting them. Which turned into skipping class. Which turned into pot. Which turned into parties. Which turned into sex. Which wasn't too too bad. But, from then it snowballed. And snowballed.

Which is why he's in Juvie. Because of a sixth grader. And his stupid fucking finger.

**_Got my legs_**

If there was one thing, and pretty much the only thing, Puck hated about his job it was the tan lines. His legs look fucking ridiculous. He stared at them as he laid on the bed, waiting for the lonely housewife to finish pampering herself. Wow, what happened to him? A hot mama is getting herself ready to fuck him and he's thinking about his tan lines?

Maybe he's been spending too much time with Kurt.

**_I got my feet_**

"Holy crap, Puck! Stop fucking stepping on me!" Kurt yelled out in the middle of Glee. The music stopped and everyone faced the two singers. Puck was smirking at his feet while Kurt just glared.

"Sorry, Hummel. Can't help my big feet." Kurt snorted and turned away, preparing to dance again. Puck raised an eyebrow "But, you know what they say about big feet."

Kurt blushed and looked away sheepishly. "Your dick size does not concern me." He said quietly so only Puck could hear. Puck chuckled.

"I was going to say 'big socks' but hey, you sure ain't wrong." Kurt's blush grew darker and before Puck could further embarrass him, he demanded the music restart.

Once again, the music blared throughout the room. The club carried on for a few minutes before Kurt cried out again, this time punching the jock in the shoulder.

"Sorry, babe. I guess I'm just a shit house dancer. Maybe you should teach me?" Puck asked and Kurt just stared.

"Sorry. I just hallucinated. What?"

"Teach me to dance?" Puck tried again and Kurt folded his arms across his chest.

"Why?"

"Well, I figured you already met my big feet. Might as well become accustomed to my other big body parts, eh?" Puck threw an arm over the soprano's shoulder before walking off, following the rest of the departing club. It took a Kurt a moment to realize he was the only one left in the room.

**_I got my toes _**

"This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. And this little piggy had none." Puck smiled as he lightly pinched Beth's toes, making her laugh, her eyes lit up as she waited for her favorite part. "And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home!" Puck cried out, tickling the bottom of his daughter's feet, watching her squeal with delight. He chuckled as she began to calm down.

"Lemme see your toes, Noah." Puck, unable to deprive her of anything she wanted, automatically reached down and pulled off his sock, resting his foot next to hers. He compared them, amazed at the size difference, and the skin color contrast. Beth pinched Puck's toes, reciting the rhyme. He giggled, although he would never admit to something so un-badass, when Beth's fingers tickled his feet. He grabbed her and threw her in the air, her laughter filling the room.

**_I got my liver_**

"No, stupid. Diabetes is a malfunction of your pancreas, not your liver."

"No. It's your liver. Santana told me." Finn insisted. Puck rolled his eyes.

"Santana lied to you, shit head. I have diabetes. I think I know this." Finn, who was about to retort paused and considered the mohawked boy.

"Really?" Finn asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yes. You've known me since I was like seven. How do you not know that?" Puck flicked the side of Finn's head, causing the boy to wince.

"I don't know…" Finn looked at Puck curiously. "So… your liver's all messed up?"

"No! My liver is fine!" Puck yelled, punching the boy in the stomach. "But, now you should check yours out." Puck stated as Finn doubled over, clutching his torso.

**_Got my blood_**

Ever since she had started volunteering at Lima's hospital, Tina had learned to expect the unexpected. You never know what could walk through those doors, whether it's someone with a fork in their neck, or a couple about to give birth to quintuplets.

But, she had almost forgotten that rule, when Puck walked into the waiting room and asked her where he goes to donate blood.

"You want to give blood?" she asked, her voice shocked. He shrugged.

"My doctor said that I've got like rare blood or something. 'AB Negative' or some shit. Plus, who wouldn't want a little Puckasaurus coursing through their veins?" Puck smirked and leaned on the counter. Tina coughed and straightened her back.

"It's down the hall and to the left." She whispered, not making eye contact with anything but the floor. Puck clucked his tongue in thanks and swaggered down to the room.

Tina followed him with her eyes and pulled her phone out. Mercedes was not going to believe this.

**_I got my guts_**

Puck's a badass. Always has been, always will be. Disagree? He'll kick your ass. And if there is one thing a badass has, it's guts. It took guts to get into Juvie. It took even more to tell his mom about it. And it took guts to assert himself to the front of the breakfast line.

So, when he takes an extra waffle, he thinks it's pretty well deserved. And well, he was the only one who thought so.

Now, that he's out of Juvie, it's gonna take a hell of a lot of guts to get his nipple repeirced. And… he's not sure if he has those guts just yet.

**_I got my muscles_**

Puck took pride in his body. He was a pretty good looking guy if he did say so himself. Which he did. Who wouldn't want this? And the one thing that made him go from 'decent looking' to 'smoking hot' was his muscles. So he made extra sure to show them off whenever he could.

So, yeah. Maybe he flexes a little more than necessary when he throws Hummel in the dumpster. Sue him. It's probably the closest thing to action the kid's ever had. He should be fucking thanking him.

That's his story and he's sticking to it.

**_I got Life Life Life Life Life Life LIFE!_**

"This is retarded, Berry."

"Noah. That is highly offensive. This is not 'retarded'. This is a highly efficient way to build team companionship."

"Board game night?" Puck asked, the distaste in his voice obvious. Puck wasn't one to deny a party, but he was ready to hang up on Rachel and call it a day. But, like a good team-player, he drove over to the Berry household just in time for the festivities to start.

"Ok, guys! What do you want to play first?" Kurt, Mercedes, and Quinn voted for Cranium; Sam and Mike voted for Monopoly; Santana and Puck voted for Dirty Minds. But, the win went to Life, with Rachel, Artie, Tina and Finn voting for it, leaving Brittany to vote for Pretty, Pretty Princess (which wasn't an option in the first place.)

Puck pouted. That game sucked. At least he was good at Dirty Minds. He sighed as Artie set the game up.

A half an hour later and Puck was cursing and screaming and fist pumping as the game came to an end. He seemed to be the only one into it, but he didn't really care. He was kicking ass!

"Take that, shit heads! I'm a fucking doctor! I'm so God damn good at Life!" He threw his arm around Kurt and shook him violently in his excitement. Kurt glanced over at the energized boy and pushed the arm off his shoulder. The soprano looked around the room asking the question everyone was thinking.

"Ok. Who wants to play Scattergories, now?"

**_And you got a lot of nerve, baby!_**

Kurt had thought a lot of things about Puck. Neanderthal, asshole, womanizer, for example. Boyfriend? Yeah, that one hadn't been on the list.

But, here he was, listening to Puck serenade him. Kurt let the music flow over him as he watched the jock sing.

Kurt had to admit it. Puck had a lot of… courage? No, that wasn't it. Gusto? That wasn't it either. Kurt smirked as Puck winked at him. Nerve. That was it. Puck had a lot of nerve, and Kurt wouldn't have it any other way.

**_I'm going to spread it around the world/ So everybody knows what I got_**

If there was one thing that Puck hated, it was when people thought he was stupid. Yes, he was lazy. Yes, he was an asshole. Yes, he was a bad kid. But, stupid? No. He was not stupid. Finn was stupid. Brittany was stupid. Noah Puckerman was smart.

And the minute he got out of Lima, he was going to college. Get his degree in something good. Make tons of cash. Travel around the world, and show them exactly what he had to offer. He would be famous. And not for being a rock star. Or a porn star. He would be something amazing. So, when all of the Lima Losers who look down on him now see his badass face in fucking Newsweek, they'll shit themselves with regret. Why? Because nobody looks down on Noah Puckerman.

**_Amen, Amen_**

**_

* * *

_**

**AN: Ok, in the I Got Hair part: I need to footnote that the anchor/tentacles concept is from the book "It's kind of a funny story" which is amazing. And major brownie points to whoever can find the Big Lebowski reference. Which is my favorite movie ever. Hope you liked it. Review if you want!**


End file.
